


In Profundissimum Dolor et Desperatio

by asthiathien



Category: 15th Century CE RPF
Genre: Canonical Character Death, Depression, F/M, Suicide Attempt, internalized ableism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-11-01
Updated: 2014-10-31
Packaged: 2018-02-23 11:18:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,050
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2545616
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/asthiathien/pseuds/asthiathien
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>King Richard III, after the death of his beloved Queen Anne.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Richard

**Author's Note:**

> Title meaning: _In the Deepest Sorrow and Despair_

Richard trailed his hand along his wife's elegant cheek, pale and cold in death. His other hand still held hers, as he had been holding her hand when she had succumbed to death. Slowly, he let go and tucked her slender hand beneath the blankets mounded around her body. Richard leaned forward and pressed a kiss to her forehead, whispering softly to her, "Goodbye, my Anne," as he settled back into the chair, the metal of the dagger hidden in his sleeve glinting in the scarlet sunset through the windows.

"No!"

The shout was punctuated by the heavy oak door to the room slamming against the stone wall, and in a heartbeat John Howard had flung himself across the room and caught Richard's wrist, the dagger almost touching the robes over his heart.

"Please, your Majesty, don't do this," Nicholas begged, already halfway across the room, Thomas Howard and one of the Norfolk knights standing beside the door.

"Release me, Howard," Richard commanded in a voice of ice, ignoring the other three in the room.

"I will not allow my friend to kill himself," Howard said, tightening his hold on Richard's wrist.

The King of England narrowed his eyes in a fierce glare before shoving himself upwards and twisting his wrist in a maneuver that broke Howard's hold, moving backwards hurriedly to keep himself away from the others, Thomas and the anonymous knight coming closer, ready to step in if they had to.

"Richard, don't," Howard pleaded, his face pale and eyes wide in sympathetic fear. 

"Why do you care?" Richard demanded harshly, shudders wracking his entire body as he swayed. "Why do you - why do any of you care about me?"

"Because you're our friend," Nicholas said sincerely, a hand reached out entreatingly.

Richard laughed hysterically, his vision blurring as the others started in surprise. "I? I am a deformed, inexperienced, blind _fool_ who thinks he can be a king worthy of succeeding his brother. I - I - "

A lance of pain shot through Richard's back and in bending over to try to relieve the spasm he overbalanced and fell hard to the stone floor, a dull ache starting on his side where he fell and the dagger clattering out of his hand. Richard lunged forward towards the weapon, Nicholas and Howard crying out in horror, and his hand had just closed around it when an armoured hand backhanded him viciously across the face. Richard's head snapped to one side, Thomas crying out inadvertently, "Don't hurt him!" as the knight kicked the dagger from his hand.

Richard lifted his head to see the knight kneeling down beside him, one hand reaching out to clasp him on the shoulder. "You are my king, and I swore an oath to defend you to my last breath, even from yourself."

Richard held the knight's gaze for a long moment, tears gathering in his eyes, before he tore himself away and went sprawling on the floor, shoulders shaking. Howard knelt down next to him and pulled Richard into his embrace, murmuring quietly words of comfort as Richard wept into his shoulder.


	2. John

"No!" Howard screamed as he shoved his knight aside and lunged across the room towards Richard, his broad hand snapping out and closing around the king's slender wrist mere moments before the dagger in his hand would have buried itself in his heart.

"Please, your Majesty, don't do this," Nicholas begged from behind him, and Howard could feel Richard flinch back from the sympathy and, more importantly, _kindness_ flowing from the master armourer. _Damn you, Richard,_ Howard thought briefly as he readjusted his grip on his wrist. _Why must you do this?_

"Release me, Howard," Richard said coldly, but the look in his eyes was agonized and hopeless and Howard could _hear_ something deep within his king crying out for salvation.

"I will not allow my friend to kill himself," Howard said fiercely, tightening his hold and inwardly readying himself to have to fight his liege-lord.

Richard's eyes narrowed harshly before he suddenly twisted himself free, shoving himself away in one fluid movement that left Howard reaching out fruitlessly towards him.

"Richard, don't," Howard pleaded, moving around the armchair to come closer and internally wincing as Richard shrank away from him, pressing himself against the stone wall as though he wanted to sink into it.

"Why do you care?" Richard demanded harshly, swaying on his feet as tremors wracked his slender frame. "Why do you - why do any of you care about me?"

Howard blinked, brought up short at the depth of honest confusion and unthinking dismissal (of _everything he is_ ) in those few words, but Nicholas filled the gap immediately.

"Because you're our friend," he said earnestly, reaching out an entreating hand to Richard.

The gentle armourer flinched back as Richard let out a hysterical laugh, the king's eyes filling with tears of pain as he spoke again. "I? I am a deformed, inexperienced, blind _fool_ who thinks he can be a king worthy of succeeding his brother. I - I - "

Howard was taken aback at the vicious self-hatred audible in even those few words, so as Richard fell he was unable to lunge forward in time to catch him. When Richard struck the ground, the forgotten dagger clattered out of his hand and skidded across the room. Richard shoved himself up and lunged for the gleaming blade, Howard letting out an involuntary shout even as he knew he would be too late to intercept him.

Just as Richard's hand closed around the dagger, the shining gauntlet of the guard knight they had brought along backhanded the king across the face, snapping his head to one side. "Don't hurt him!" Thomas cried out as the knight kicked the dagger out of Richard's hand and then knelt beside the monarch coiled on his side.

"You are my king," the knight rumbled as he placed a comforting hand on Richard's shoulder, "and I swore an oath to defend you to my last breath, even from yourself."

Richard held the knight's gaze for a few seconds, before he shoved the man away and went sprawling on the cold stone floor, sobbing brokenly.

And then Howard was there, reaching out and cradling the king close, murmuring comforting nonsense under his breath as Richard wept into his shoulder.


End file.
